There were long drawn sensuous glissandos. Sighing breaths. Even silvery giggles and high-pitched titters. And under it all was the muffled rhythm of ... heartbeat.It might remind some of the guests of a porno soundtrack.Colored lights started to flash around the hall. Then the faint sound of many clicking heels could be heard. All heads turned to its source. A gasp filled the hall.Dozens upon dozens of women entered.Women? Many of the visitors — especially female - would surely call them sluts,. Not that this is a problem I’m complaining about of course. I climb wearily up the stairs to my bedroom. The sparse but well-appointed room is a sight for sore eyes after the organized chaos that is my workshop. He was still asleep, and I stood for a moment to admire his form – his body radiated warmth against the grey sheets, the dark mahogany bed, and the sunlight beginning to filter through the windows. For a moment, I just wanted to crawl into bed, suckle on his cock and enjoy the feeling. More

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